


What Could Go Wrong? Oh. That's What.

by GalaxyAce



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Greg is 51, Happy Ending, John is 40, M/M, Mycroft Likes Older Men, Mycroft is 17, Sherlock Has a Military Kink, Slow Burn, Smut, Student Mycroft, Student Sherlock, Teacher Greg Lestrade, Teacher John Watson, Teacher-Student Relationship, Underage Sex, University Student Mycroft, University Student Sherlock, sherlock is 16
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-02 02:04:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6546004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyAce/pseuds/GalaxyAce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First attempt at writing a chapter fic. I'll update it if people like it, I guess.</p><p>Dr. John Watson teaches psychology and calculus at Cambridge University. Dr. Greg Lestrade teaches physics and physics with calculus. They have something in common. They both have crushes on one of their students. Coincidentally, the students they like are brothers, and pretty young, which kind of turns them on; knowing it's kinda wrong. It also turns Sherlock and Mycroft on too. They just won't admit it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Day

7:00 am.  
John Watson’s alarm clock rang, startling him awake. He sighed and reached over to end the infernal buzzing. John brought his hands up to his face and shut his eyes. It was the first day at his new job. He would be teaching psychology and maths to students at Cambridge University. John groaned and rolled out of bed, picking up a fresh set of clothes and underwear. He trudged into the bathroom and turned the shower on, quickly popping out to grab a towel and sling it over the bar. While he was waiting for the shower to warm up, he looked at himself in the mirror. He ran his fingers through his short, dirty blond hair, tousling it a bit. He sighed once more and looked disappointingly at his reflection in the mirror. He was 40 years old and had never been married. It’s not that he was a bad-looking fellow, he actually was quite attractive, he was just waiting for the right person. The mirror had quickly fogged over with the steam of the shower and John stripped himself of his pajamas and hopped inside. The hot water felt great and relaxing on his body; he was actually quite nervous for his first day on the job. He had never taught before. John shampooed his hair and soaped up his body. He spent a few minutes just standing in the stream of hot water, shutting his eyes and mentally preparing himself for work. He turned the shower off and wrapped the towel around himself. After getting dried and dressed, John made himself a cup of tea and two pieces of toast. Looking at the clock and realising he had less than 30 minutes to get his ass to the university, he finished up eating the toast and quickly brushed his teeth and hair. He grabbed his car keys, briefcase and put on his shoes and dashed out of his flat, locking the door behind him and running down the steps to get to his car.

The drive took about 15 minutes and John walked in the door of the university, introducing himself to some of the other staff and flashing his university ID at some security guards. John walked down the hallway to his classroom and situated himself, pulling out his laptop, papers, and mobile phone. He glanced at the wall clock that read 8:30. John slumped down in his large chair and sighed. His first class started at 9:00, so he was preparing syllabuses to hand out. 9:00 came quicker than he thought and soon his classroom was filling up with students. 

“Hello, I’m Dr. John Watson. I’ll be your professor for this class, and probably a few others if you’re taking other social science classes or maths classes.” John paused a bit to look at the 40 pairs of eyes staring blankly at him. He tensed up slightly.

“Are ther-“ John stopped mid-sentence to look at someone who came into class late. John’s jaw nearly dropped. He was looking at who could possibly be the most handsome lad he ever saw. He was tall and thin and had amazing bluish-silver coloured eyes. He was wearing a long, black trench coat with more black clothes underneath. The boy stood there close to the door, the 40 pairs of eyes were quickly staring at him.

“Um, I got a bit lost…” The boy’s voice trailed off and he started walking toward John. “This is the right room for Dr. John Watson’s class, yes?”

John blinked a bit and smiled nervously. “Yes, you’re in the right room.” John pointed toward an empty seat in the first row. “Please take a seat.”

The boy nodded and clutched his backpack while making his way to the empty seat, not making eye contact with anyone.

“So, are there any questions?” John finished what he was saying earlier.

A hand shot up from the middle of the room. John looked at the girl and criticised her looks a bit in his head. She was quite unattractive with dyed blonde hair and a bit too much makeup on.

“Yes?” John said.

The girl opened her mouth to ask her question and spoke with a thick Cockney accent. “How much does the textbook cost for this class?”  
John laughed quietly to himself, “I’m not actually sure, I’m afraid. This is my first day on the job. I’ll be sure to find out and let you know later, though.”

“So, if there aren’t any more questions, you’ll find a syllabus on your desk. Just read through that and you’ll get a feel of what the class will contain and some important test dates.” John said while walking back over to his desk to turn his laptop on. He pulled up a presentation on a few basic psychology topics and answered a few other questions some students had. His class was over at 11:15. All the students got up out of their seats and filed out the door.

John walked up to the front row. “What’s your name?” 

The boy zipped up his backpack and looked at the man standing in front of him.

“Sherlock Holmes.” He answered while standing up, slinging the backpack over his shoulder.

John was taken a bit aback. The boy was quite tall. And lovely.

“What other classes do you teach?” Sherlock asked.

“I teach this one, obviously, I teach Statistics from 12:25 to 2:00, and I teach Calculus 3 from 3:45 to 5:15.” John answered him back.

Sherlock studied his schedule. “Looks like I’ll be seeing you again at 3:45 for Calculus.” Sherlock nodded at John and started walking out the door.

John walked back to his chair and sat down, preparing himself for his class at 12:25. The class went by quicker than he thought and John walked to the cafeteria to buy some lunch. He took his lunch back into his classroom and saw a familiar face in a chemistry lab he passed by. It was Sherlock. 

“Oh, he takes chemistry.” John said quietly to himself and took a bite out of his turkey and Swiss cheese sandwich. He made his way to his classroom down the hall and closed the door behind him. He ate and passed the time watching videos on his phone. 3:40 rolled around and students were pouring into his classroom for their afternoon calculus class. There were 65 students in his class this time.

Sherlock walked in quietly, on time, and took his seat in the front row where he sat during his first class. John observed him for a bit. Sherlock looked quite young for a university student. John kept looking because Sherlock was busy writing something down. He had a head full of beautiful, black curls and they contrasted quite nicely against his rather pale complexion. The boy’s defined cheekbones and full lips were quite attractive as well. Sherlock had a rather vampirish look to him, tall, pale, thin, and covered in black clothes. John thought it was bloody hot.

“Alright, I’m Dr. John Watson. There’s a copy of the syllabus on each of your desks. Now, please raise your hand if you are currently a senior.”

40 students raised their hands.

“Okay. Juniors?” John asked.

20 students raised their hands.

“Sophomores?”

Only 4 students raised their hands.

“Any freshmen?”

Sherlock tentatively raised his hand, his eyes fixed on his desk, not wanting to attract attention.

John looked at him. “Really? That’s quite amazing.” He smiled. “Now, any questions or comments before we get started going through the syllabus?”

No one raised their hand and the class passed by quickly, ending at 5:15. The students gathered their things and walked out of the classroom. John walked out too, catching up to Sherlock in the hall.

“Hello, Mr. Holmes. Could you answer a question for me?” John asked the boy.

“Sure.” Sherlock shrugged.

“How old are you?” John looked at him with a puzzled expression on his face.

“I’m 16. Why?” Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

“You look much younger thank everyone in the class. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.” John chuckled a bit.

“Oh, I’m used to it, don’t worry.” Sherlock smiled. “See you tomorrow, Dr. Watson.”

Sherlock turned on his heel and walked out of the building.


	2. Second Day

John was ready to start another day at the university. He followed his usual routine in the morning but splashed on a bit of expensive cologne. John walked through the university, found his classroom, and plopped himself down on his chair. He glanced at his phone. It was only 8:32 so he decided to look up Sherlock in the student database. John was amazed at what he saw. Sherlock was extremely bright.

“He’s a genius!” John exclaimed to himself. “No wonder he’s at one of the best universities at this age.”

His first class passed slowly. John sneaked glances at Sherlock quite frequently and Sherlock couldn’t help but notice from the corner of his eye.  
John’s second class passed even slower and he was happy to finally eat. While leaving the cafeteria, John bumped into someone. John looked up from his phone to apologise and realised it was Sherlock.

“Oh, I-I’m sorry, S-sherlock.” John stammered out.

“It’s okay.” Sherlock shrugged. “I didn’t see you down there.” He laughed and smacked John playfully on the arm.

They both continued on their way and John finally reached his classroom.

‘Had Sherlock just flirted with me?’ John thought.

Soon enough, 3:40 rolled around and students were piling into his classroom. Sherlock walked in and took his seat at the front of the class. John taught his class some simple limits and gave them a homework assignment to work on for the remainder of the class. The clock hit 5:15 and the students placed their papers on John’s desk, walking out the door after. Sherlock lingered a bit. When the room was void of other students, Sherlock went up to John’s desk with his assignment in his hand and his backpack on his shoulders.

“I want to apologise for what I said at the cafeteria. I didn’t mean any offence, I just thought it might be funny, but saying a joke like that to teacher might be a bit rude… not that I meant it in a mean way, short people like yourself are quite adorable and… yeah.” Sherlock rambled and dropped his paper on John’s desk, reaching a hand up to his head and running his fingers through his curls.

“Oh, uh, it’s alright. I get it often, I mean, I am quite small.” John forced out a chuckle and saw how uncomfortable Sherlock was. The boy was sweating a bit and his eyes were darting nervously around the room. John cleared his throat, “So, yeah, it-”

“Seeyoutomorrowbye” Sherlock mumbled out quickly and ran out of the classroom, clutching the straps of his black backpack.

John chuckled a bit to himself because Sherlock was cute when he was nervous and also, he called John ‘adorable’

Calculus 3 was John’s last class of the day, so he got back to his flat at around 5:40. He decided to take a walk around the flat block today; he was in a really good mood. After a few minutes, John swore he saw Sherlock going up the steps to a flat in the building next to where John’s flat was. He shook his head and thought he might be seeing things. And with that he hightailed it back to his flat and decided to relax for the rest of the day. He made a simple pasta dinner and sat down in front of the telly to watch a film and eat. Around 9:30, John decided to call it a night. He changed into his pajamas, set his alarm for tomorrow, and fell asleep.


	3. The Dream

“Looks like you need to stay after class for detention from yours truly.” John smiled seductively to Sherlock.

“What if I decide not to? What if I just leave?” Asked Sherlock, returning the smile.

“Then I guess you’ll have to be punished.” John stepped dangerously close to the young, tall boy.

“Try me.” Sherlock stepped forward until he and John were centimetres apart.

“I will.” John grabbed Sherlock by the collar of his trench coat and pushed him up against the wall, kissing the young boy with great force. He had been meaning to do this since he first saw Sherlock walk into his classroom. 

Sherlock sighed into John’s mouth and responded by grabbing the teacher’s hips and pulling him sharply forward into Sherlock’s own hips and groin. This only intensified John’s need for Sherlock; he stripped the boy of his long trench coat and threw it on the floor as fast as he could. They broke apart for a few short moments, ridding themselves of their shirts, then quickly resuming their urgent kissing against the wall where Sherlock was pinned up by John. Sherlock ran his hands up and down his teacher’s sides, finally wrapping his long arms around the short teacher’s waist. John’s arms were around Sherlock’s neck, one of his hands sneaking up to Sherlock’s hair and grabbing a handful.

Sherlock let out a moan into John’s open mouth and forced him backwards, onto his own desk. It was quite a large desk. Sherlock pushed the teacher down on the desk and climbed on top of the shorter man, straddling him. Sherlock’s large hands were caressing John’s smooth body in an instant and their lips were clashing against each other once more. John panted underneath Sherlock, desperately needing more of the young boy, he reached for Sherlock’s cock and grabbed it through his trousers. Sherlock shot John a disapproving look and whispered into his teachers’ ear in a dangerously low voice, “I’m going to have you right on this desk.”

7:00 am. 

The damned alarm clock woke him up and John groaned.

“No! 5 more minutes, ugh.” John turned the alarm off and sat on the edge of his bed. He then realised what he'd been dreaming of.

“Wait, was I having a sex dream with SHERLOCK?” John’s eyes were wide open. He cupped his face with his hands and sighed in disbelief. 

“Ugh, I'm a pervert! He's only 16! Jesus...” John shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of what he had just dreamed of. Reluctantly, he went to take a shower and carry on with his morning.


	4. Well, This Will Be Awkward.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock doesn't show up for class and John is disappointed. His friend, Gregory, confides in him about a problem exactly like John's and Greg finds out that his crush lives in the same flat block as John. They decide to get drunk and knock on the door. John is surprised at what he sees.

John arrived at the university a bit earlier than usual. He situated himself in his classroom and pulled out his laptop to consult the student database. He wanted to find out what Sherlock’s schedule was. John pulled up his list of students and selected the name ‘Holmes, W. Sherlock S.’ Sherlock’s schedule was pulled up on his screen immediately. The screen read:

Holmes, William Sherlock Scott

9:00-11:15/Psychology, Dr. John Watson

11:30-12:30/Advanced Organic Chemistry, Dr. Rosa Sciege

1:15-2:45/Physics with Calculus III, Dr. Gregory Lestrade

3:45-5:15/Calculus III, Dr. John Watson

5:30-6:40/Honours English Seminar, Dr. Carl Strong

John sighed. Sherlock was bloody impressive. He looked at the bottom right corner of his computer screen which had the time and rolled his eyes. His class would be starting in 6 minutes. And he’d have to see Sherlock. The boy who was about fuck him in his dream. He sighed again, heavily, and loaded up the day’s psychology presentation on the projector. Students poured into his classroom, but he didn’t see Sherlock. John taught his lesson, eyeing the door frequently in case Sherlock came in late. He didn’t. John wasn’t enthusiastic about his lesson and talked in a monotone voice. He missed Sherlock sitting there in the front row, writing and staring up at him with those pale blue eyes.

He went on with day, excited when his lunch break came so he could hopefully see Sherlock in the cafeteria. But to no avail. He opened the cafeteria door and saw a bunch students, none of them Sherlock. Disappointed, he left and made his way back to his classroom, stopping to peer into the chemistry lab he saw Sherlock in before. Met with more disappointment, John hung his head low and trudged forward.

“John!”

John’s head perked up a bit, searching for the source of the shout. A tall, tan man with silver hair walked quickly toward him. It was his friend Greg Lestrade.

“Hey, Greg. How are you?” John walked toward his friend.

“I’ve been better, but I need to tell you something.” Greg looked around, “in private. It’s a bit… personal and I trust you with everything.”

John smiled and reminisced a bit. They had been friends since John was in high school and Greg was pursuing his doctorate. Greg was about 10 years older. “Sure, mate. We can talk in my classroom; it’s just down the hall.”

“Alright.” Greg shuffled nervously and walked next to John to his classroom. They got inside and Greg sat down at one of the student’s desks.

“So, what’s your dilemma, mate?” John put his hands on his hips and looked at Greg.

Greg ran his fingers through his short, silver hair and sighed. “There’s a student in my class… and I guess I’m kinda… attracted to him… you know? I know it’s so wrong and I could lose my job, but he’s so amazing and handsome and tall…” Greg’s voice trailed off and he cupped his face with hands. 

John could see how distressed his poor friend was. He put his hand on Greg’s shoulder, deciding whether or not to tell him about his own problem with Sherlock.

“It’s funny you say that… because I’m in the same predicament as you.” Greg looked up at John and thought he was just making fun of him. But then he saw the seriousness in the younger teacher’s eyes and knew he wasn't playing.

John paced slowly around his desk, staring up at the ceiling with a dreamy look on his face. “His name is Sherlock… he’s tall and beautiful. He’s got these amazing silver eyes and his hair, ugh, it’s so curly, dark, and amazing… I wish I could run my fingers through it. And his fashion sense is so mysterious, with his dark coats and black clothes…” 

John snapped back to reality and looked back at Greg. 

Greg was smiling at him. “Sounds like you’re in deep.” He laughed. “His name is Mycroft and he’s pretty tall too… He’s got blue eyes and auburn hair… He’s the most exquisite human being I’ve ever seen in my 51 years of living. He’s got these long legs… what I would give to have those legs wrapped around me…” Greg stopped talking immediately and blushed.

John laughed. “Sounds like you’re in pretty deep too, mate.”

“Ah, bugger off. I’ve got to go get a presentation ready. Want to go out and drunk after work?” Greg got up off the seat and started walking to the entrance of the classroom.

“Sounds like a plan. Come back in here around 6.” John said.

“Gotcha, mate. I’ll be here.” Greg left the classroom and went to his own to teach his class.

John’s classroom filled up with students once more, with no sight of Sherlock again. He taught his lesson, praying that 6:00 came quick so he could leave.  
Sure enough, it did and his class was leaving. John packed up his laptop and waited for Greg. The door opened and Greg was standing there. 

“Oi, mate, I found out that Mycroft lives in the same flat block as you.” Greg looked a bit embarrassed and added, “It’s on the student database under ‘Personal Information’” 

“Maybe we should get drunk and pay him a visit!” John said playfully.

“I’m down! We could just say it’s an innocent mistake!” Greg laughed and walked out the door with John, making regular small talk as they exited the university and got to their cars. They sped off to the nearest bar and ordered some drinks. 

“John, I don’t think it’s a good idea to get drunk and then drive to your flat. I didn’t really think this through.”

“Fuck me, you’re right. God, we’re bloody calculus professors and we can’t even think this shit through?” John laughed. “Maybe we should just go buy a bunch of liquor down at the liquor store; it’s, like, 8 minutes away from here.”

“Let’s do that.” Greg agreed and finished his drink.

They both stood up and left the pub, walked to their cars and John led Greg to the liquor store. They went in and bought a bunch of alcoholic drinks. Satisfied with their picks, they nodded to each other and made their way to the till. Grabbing the bag full of liquor, Greg held the door open for John and they were on their way again, to John’s flat. They arrived and John grabbed the bag with bottles out of his car while fumbling with his pocket to get his keys out.

“Need some help, mate?” Greg called over to John from his car.

“Yeah, could you take the bag? I’ve got to open my flat.” John laughed and handed the bag to Greg. They walked up a few steps and John opened his door.

“Alright, this is going to be a fun night!” Greg whooped and opened a bottle of Bailey’s.

“I agree.” John closed the door to his flat and opened a bottle of Kahlua.

About an hour and half passed and their speech was becoming slurred so they decided to go and knock on Mycroft’s door now. They left the flat, giggling like teenage boys, with an open bottle of liquor in their hands. They stumbled down the steps and looked for the number ‘221’ on the flat doors.

“Oi! I found it!” Greg shouted drunkenly to John and they both staggered to the door, still giggling.

Greg knocked on the door and heard footsteps coming from inside.

“He’s coming.” Greg whispered while still laughing.

Much to both of their surprise, Sherlock opened the door.

“Can I help you?” Sherlock asked the drunk teachers.

John’s eyes widened. “Sherlock?!”


	5. Holy Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft and drunk Greg get it on. Sherlock and less drunk John start to get it on.

“Dr. Watson?” Sherlock returned the surprise John had in his voice, looking at the short man up and down. “C-can I help you guys with something?” Sherlock stammered a bit and blushed slightly. He was greatly amused by seeing two of his professors drunk and giggling.

John looked at his drunk friend. He was bloody wasted. John was a bit more sober. He cleared his throat and straightened his shirt, trying to stand up a little bit straighter. Before John could say anything, he was interrupted by Greg’s slurred speech.

“Where’s… your brother?” Greg propped himself up on the doorframe and looked at Sherlock.

Sherlock stepped back a bit. “He’s inside, working on a research paper, Dr. Lestrade.”

Greg’s eyes lit up. “C-can I see him?”

“Uh… do you think that’s a good idea? In your… um, current state?” Sherlock shifted uncomfortably and shot Greg a look of worry.

“I won’t be long… I just want to tell him s-something.” Greg mumbled and looked down, hiding his growing smile.

“Well, alright. Come in, guys.” Sherlock opened the door wider and two giggling men stumbled into the flat. Sherlock turned toward Greg. “Mycroft is in there.” He pointed to a white door with an Indiana Jones poster taped to it.

“Thanks, mate.” Greg drunkenly saluted Sherlock, touching two fingers to his forehead and shuffled his way to Mycroft’s room.

Sherlock turned his attention to the short, blond man and smiled awkwardly.

“So, I, uh, didn’t know you and Dr. Lestrade were friends.” Sherlock attempted to make small talk with his drunk professor.

“Yeah, we’ve been friends for a long time.” John tried his best not to slur his words. “How long have you been Mycroft’s brother?” John asked and looked into Sherlock’s eyes, realised what he said, and turned red.

Sherlock smiled and laughed.

“Wait, no, ignore that. I just realised what I said, stupid, I’m sorry. It’s the alcohol.” John tried to hide his embarrassment and took deep breaths in an attempt to stop blushing.

“It’s alright.” Sherlock put a hand on John’s shoulder. “Do you want some water or tea or something? I think you should put that bottle down.” Sherlock walked toward the kitchen and opened the fridge, taking out a cold bottle of water.

“I want to have you on that table.” John whispered under his breath, not thinking Sherlock would hear.

“Why didn’t you just say so?” Sherlock took long strides toward John, grinning widely.

“What are you talking about? I didn’t say anything.” John tried to play innocent. That didn’t work with Sherlock.

Sherlock cocked his head and looked John in the eye. He paced around John with his hands on hips, lifting them periodically to make gestures. “On the first day of class you were completely fine. On the second day I noticed you had put a little extra effort into your appearance. But for who? Me, obviously. We exchanged glances quite frequently and words, albeit less frequently. But, each time we talked, I noticed that your pupils dilated and your breathing pattern changed ever so slightly. What are those symptoms of? Attraction.” Sherlock grinned matter-of-factly and continued. “When we’d exchange looks in the classroom, you would become noticeably flustered and try very hard not to look at me again. You failed. Multiple times.” Sherlock stood just inches away from John. “Am I right?”

John’s mouth was open. He was shocked. And amazed. “Y-y-yeah… you’re right.” He stammered out, looking at the floor. “Stupid of me, wasn’t-“

Before John could finish what he saying, Sherlock grabbed him by his shirt collar and hoisted him up on the kitchen counter. John’s legs spread apart and Sherlock wiggled his way between them, sealing off the distance between their faces with a tender kiss. John’s mouth tasted like alcohol, but Sherlock didn’t mind. It only took mere seconds for the kiss to turn aggressive. Sherlock wrapped his long arms around John’s neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss. John’s hands found his way to Sherlock’s arse, pulling him sharply forward, but his crotch only being met with the coldness of counter, much to Sherlock’s chagrin.

“You’re such a tease, Sherlock.” John breathed into the taller man’s ear and slid off the counter. He took Sherlock’s hands and led him toward his own bedroom. Sherlock slammed the door shut and pushed John on the bed, climbing on top of him and aggressively pinning the teacher’s short arms down.

They both stopped for a second. And looked at each other. Confusedly. 

In the room next door, the faint sound of a squeaking bed was heard. Panting and moaning were getting louder as Sherlock and John pressed their ears against the wall.

“Ohhh… fuck, yes! Mycroft!… fuck!”

“Greg… ohh! God!”

John and Sherlock shrugged and resumed their positions.

Sherlock reached a hand inside John’s shirt, pulling out a silver necklace with two metal squares attached to it that read: 

John H. Watson

Rank: Captain

DOB: 08/09/1975

Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers

 

Sherlock grinned and licked the cold metal. John was a bit confused but he was definitely getting aroused.

“I’ve got a bit of a penchant for army men.” Sherlock whispered dangerously close to John’s ear, giving the tingling cartilage a soft lick. John’s eyes fluttered and he got ready for the night of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh, at first I kinda didn't want to keep going with this story but now it's getting fun to write. I hope you guys think the same!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rewinding back a little bit to let you guys know what happened with Greg and Mycroft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long :( I've been writing other stories and when I thought about this one, my mind went blank.

Greg opened the door to Mycroft’s room and stepped inside. He set his bottle down on a nearby table and closed the door.

“Hey, Mycroft.” Greg saw Mycroft who was sitting at his desk, surrounded by papers, books, and pencils.

“Hello Dr. Lestrade.” Mycroft was surprisingly calm, crossing his arms and turning toward the handsome silver-haired man who was taking a seat on Mycroft’s bed. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Greg looked at him. “Yeah, as a matter of fact, there is something you can help me with, Mycroft.” He stood up and walked toward Mycroft’s desk, stopping about 2 metres away from the boy. “Have you got a girlfriend?” Greg slurred his words a little bit and Mycroft let out a small chuckle.

“I haven’t got a girlfriend, no. Not interested.” Mycroft looked down and blushed a bit. “I have a… uh… different taste in people I choose to pursue a relationship with.”

“Oh, like what?” Greg asked.

“Well, I prefer smart, good-looking, tall, older… men.” Mycroft made eye contact with Greg for about half a second before looking away as quickly as he could. He had hoped Greg caught on to what he was implying.

Greg did get what he was implying, and walked over to Mycroft’s desk. He took a seat on the desk, directly in front of Mycroft, pushing Mycroft’s chair back a little bit to situate himself, then pulling the chair, with Mycroft in it, back to the desk, between Lestrade’s legs.

“So, would you fancy… someone like me?” Greg leaned down and breathed that sentence into Mycroft’s ear. Mycroft could smell alcohol on the older man’s breath, but neither of them cared.

“I thought you’d never ask.” Mycroft whispered back to Greg, their faces just inches apart.

Greg grabbed Mycroft by his shirt and lifted him off the chair, pushing the boy up against the wall of his room with his strong hands. Mycroft trembled with excitement and nervousness. Mycroft opened his mouth to speak but he was quickly cut off by a gentle, warm pressure against his lips. Greg was kissing him. His teacher was kissing him. Mycroft couldn't be happier. Deep down inside, Mycroft thought a teacher-student relationship was hot, but he never thought he would actually have one!

Mycroft kissed Greg back a little harder, causing Greg to tighten his grip on the boy's shirt. Mycroft smiled internally and began exploring the older man's body with his pale hands. His hands moved over the teacher's strong arms, coming to rest on the back of his neck. The kiss was broken and Greg finally spoke.

"Well, this went better than expected." Greg smiled seductively at the younger boy.

"I agree. But, don't stop now... I was just starting to have fun." Mycroft pouted, trying to look as cute as he could.

Greg smirked. "Hm, well, would you like to continue? Because I don't object."

"I'd like to do something... else." Mycroft knelt on the floor in front of Greg, situating himself so that his knees were comfortable and wouldn't hurt after.

Greg opened his mouth in shock. "You... you mean?" 

"Oh, I mean." Mycroft's hand extended upward toward Greg's crotch, feeling his cock hardening under the boy's slender hand. He rubbed the teacher's cock teasingly until it was fully hard then moved his hand slightly upward to unfasten his belt. When the belt came undone, Mycroft pulled Greg's pants and trousers down as quickly as he could, eager to get started. 

The cool air brushed against the teacher's fully erect cock and it felt quite pleasant. But feeling Mycroft's mouth on his fully erect cock might feel even more pleasant.

Mycroft took Greg's cock in his hands and massaged it sensually.

"Oh, god" Greg moaned quietly.

Then Greg felt the cool air around his cock disappear into a warm, wet mouth. He moaned slightly louder at this pleasant change in environment.

Mycroft took the teacher's cock out of his mouth with a ' _pop'_  and looked up at the grey-haired man. His eyes were half-lidded and his mouth was slightly parted. The boy carefully placed his tongue underneath the head of his cock, the most sensitive part. Mycroft felt Greg's body tense up a little bit, but then the boy opened his mouth wider and took in all of Greg's cock. He began sucking slowly but then picking up speed in less than a minute. Mycroft felt large hands against his head, pushing him down further on the teacher's cock. Greg was mumbling incoherently, every second bringing him closer to orgasm. Mycroft felt the vibrations in Greg's body and that prompted him to go faster. The boy began sucking furiously on the teacher's large cock and Greg continued pushing Mycroft's head faster and faster onto his cock.

“Ohhh… fuck, yes! Mycroft!… fuck!” Greg threw his head back as his orgasm ripped through his body and into Mycroft's mouth.

Mycroft looked up at the older man and didn't break eye contact while swallowing the teacher's sticky, white liquid.

"Now, come here." Greg growled as he wriggled out of his trousers completely and picked up the boy, throwing him on the bed. Mycroft's pants and trousers were removed quickly and thrown on the floor. The boy already had an erection from sucking off his teacher.

Greg's hands were cold but they felt good around Mycroft's cock. The boy moaned, knowing he wouldn't last too long, and he brought Greg in for a kiss while the older man was still gripping his cock. Greg stroked Mycroft harder and faster and soon their kiss turned into Mycroft's open mouth panting inside Greg's.

“Greg… ohh!  God!”

The young boy's moans grew louder and Greg felt his cock throb, releasing a milky substance all over his hand. Mycroft shuddered at the intensity of this orgasm. He quite enjoyed it.

Greg licked his hand clean and walked over to bring Mycroft his pants and trousers, gathering his own along the way. The two men dressed their lower halves and crawled into bed next to each other, not saying a word, just smiling.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
